


So Is It Wrong To Dance This Line?

by gaialux



Category: Dance Academy
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Often enough, all they had was each other and dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Is It Wrong To Dance This Line?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rsadelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/gifts).



> Title taken from Not About Angels by Birdy. Very mild, mostly implied sibling incest that can be read as just a close platonic relationship.

The thing about having two parents dedicated to dancing (and  _dedicated_ is always used lightly -- but the thesaurus-found words of  _committed_ and  _devoted_ and  _zealous_ also don't come close to the obsessive desire her mother and father show to ballet) is that Kat never had another choice. It's only once she arrives at the National Academy of Dance that the choice to throw herself into hip hop is really offered, and the girls have better things to do than gush over her mother being Miss Natasha Willis (no name change for her mother. Ever.).

Kat wouldn't say her mother is  _happy_ with this choice, but it's still dancing so Kat receives little more than a steely gaze and tight-lipped grimace. Kat takes it, because what else is she going to do? It's not getting her kicked out of the Academy and it's not starting a yelling match. At least until her mother confronts Ethan. Then Kat, ear pressed to the door, holds her tongue, swallows deep, and listens.

"She has  _potential_ , Ethan," her mother is saying with that patronisingly controlled voice. Lethal like a taipan waiting to strike. "Talk to her -- she listens to you."

"Kat has potential anywhere." Ethan's voice. It's always been a beacon of peace and safety in this house. Kat slumps closer to the door, knowing she shouldn't be listening but also being aware that, if she asks Ethan later, he will give a diluted version. He always protects her. It's just how he is. "So what if she's stopped being interested in dancing? That was  _your_ dream."

Silence. Kat presses herself closer to the door until her ear is burning with the pressure and her hip digs into the wood. Her mother wouldn't give up that easily -- she never did. But there was nothing. A long, sticky silence like syrup draws out until foot falls began. Kat turns and makes her way down the hallway--

"Kat."

 _Dammit_. Kat squeezes her eyes shut, breathes, and turns on her heel to face her brother. At least he doesn't look mad or annoyed.. Worried, maybe, or concerned. Yet there's also something calming about the way his eyes lock on hers. She doesn't need to explain herself -- Ethan doesn't care.

"Don't worry about her," Ethan says. Even those four words are enough to start calming Kat. She breathes out in what she doesn't intend to be an audible sigh, but Ethan picks up on it anyway. She lets him come closer and squeeze her shoulder. Comfort. "Besides, she's going on tour next week. We don't have to hear from her for at least a month."

"Yeah," Kat says. She wishes she sounded more certain.

When Kat was a kid all she wanted was a mother who stayed home and spent time with her, not one who was always jet setting across the ballet circuit from the day Kat turned two. Ethan had practically raised her; not that he deserved all that responsibility from such a young age, either.

"Really," Ethan says. "In a few years you don't have to list to her at all. You can go wherever you want, Kat. Keep up hip-hop or go a new direction all together. Think about that."

She tries to. Every single day she isn't placed into a ballet classroom and clucked at for being a suspected 'natural'. She's not as good as Ethan, she knows that, and also nowhere near the natural talent of Tara or Abigail. She's just been doing _plies_ and  _sautes_ since she could walk. Her mother knows it, too, and that's where the disapproving looks stemmed from. Having to work hard just to be average.

"Hey."

Kat looks up at her brother.

"When's the last time you went down to the beach?"

Kat shrugs. "Start of summer?"

Ethan rolls his eyes at that. "Well come on. The ocean awaits."

 

* * *

 

It's too cold to even step foot in the water. The wind having picked up and howling across the sand until the shards almost look as though they're dancing -- _The Nutcracker_ on the shore. Kat wraps her arms tighter around herself and follows Ethan to the water's edge all the same, dropping down in synchronicity and staring out into the darkness.

Much of their childhood was spent like this.

"You cold?"

Kat shakes her head, but the goosebumps and involuntary shudder that courses down her neck and back says otherwise.

"Here." Ethan holds out his jumper. At first Kat doesn't take it, but after a few seconds the incessant shaking gets to her and she snatches it from his hand. "No thanks?"

"No thanks."

"You're welcome."

The lapse of silence catches up to them again. The waves crashing gently and the lightning bolt of car headlights catch on the water now and again. Peace. One of the few places Kat can still find it. She tugs on Ethan's jumper and is instantly warmer, the smell of Ethan surrounding her. She forgets everything that just went on back at the house.

"I'm glad you came back," Kat says. It shatters the tranquillity but she's been meaning to say it for a while now.

"What?" Ethan gives her a confused look. "I told you I always would be."

"Yeah." Kat attempts to nibble her thumbnail but the too-long jumper gets wedged in her teeth instead. "But...I dunno. Thought maybe you would have built a life in Spain."

He shakes his head. "My home's here. Always has been and likely always will be."

"In the land of dance of choreography." She doesn't mean to sound bitter. Really. It just sometimes sits on her tongue and forces itself out -- usually around Ethan. Usually when she's comfortable enough to be herself.

"Well, yeah." Ethan shrugs. "I like to dance, Kat. Just because I don't think  _you_ should have to doesn't mean I'm about to drop it all. It doesn't work that way."

"Yeah." The word is carried away with the wind, but she thinks Ethan gets it. Kat draws her arms around on legs and lets her head drop to her knees. From the gap below her elbow she watches Ethan. The way he stares out into the ocean and horizon; he always had a gaze with such depth.

"I want you to be happy," Ethan says. He turns and knows she's looking, finds her eyes. "You know that, right?"

"I know you do."

Ethan leans over and wraps an arm around her. Kat untangles so her head is on his shoulder, her arms around his back and stomach. A dancer's body; her brother's body. She knows it well. Just like the ocean and the stars and the way to move to music. Some things are just part of you.

"Thank you," Kat whispers.

"Any time." Ethan kisses the top of Kat's head and she holds on.


End file.
